


Medicine and The Pain

by TooTiredToTry



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 07:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19948744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooTiredToTry/pseuds/TooTiredToTry
Summary: Steve woke up Saturday morning with a person laying next to him. The sun was reaching through the black out curtains desperately, but to no avail. Steve grumbled and tried to take cover under the comforter, but he was pushed away. He opened his eyes to see a cotton ball of brown hair tucked under the blankets. The ball of puff groaned sleepily which was hilarious and kinda adorable at once. Steve made to leave, but big eyes blinked open and froze him in place.“Did we fuck,” Tony mumbled as he dug into his eyes.“Did you want to?”“Fuck off.”





	Medicine and The Pain

Steve and Tony have been roommates for a year. And, honestly, it’s kind of unbelievable.

They each started out freshman year of college in the same semester, but Steve was six months older, and about three times bigger. Tony had already claimed a room with a king mattress with a headboard, the maxi closet, and a jumbo touch screen television hooked onto the wall. Another guy who was about Steve’s size was swiping through his phone on the bed, while a brunette was sitting on the hardwood floor amongst gadgets and gizmos a plenty. Without looking up, the one on the bed said, “Tones, your roomie is here.”

“Tones” did not reply, instead he threw a bolt at his friend with a “shut up, Rhodey”. 

Steve, with his two large moving boxes in his hands, cleared his throat.

“Where’s my room?”

“Not here,” Tones answered.

The bolt was projected at the smaller man from the mattress with a “be nice”.

Steve stared blankly at the pair before huffing in frustration and wandering around. He eventually found an empty room, smaller than the other one that was inhabited, and he set his boxes down. Not wanting to interact with his douchey roommate, he began unpacking his boxes. Polos, tank tops, and short sleeve shirts were hung in his (moderately tiny) closet. Jeans, cargo shorts, sweats, and pajamas were folded and neat onto the floor next to his king mattress on the floor as well. He’d need to buy a drawer soon, but he figured he’d be okay for the weekend. He settled his sketchbook, charcoal pencils, acrylics, watercolors, brushes, and board canvases on his bed. Next was his Harry Potter collection, all newest edition with the completed scene on the covers, which were neatly ordered by number of sequence on top of each other in the now empty box. With nothing left to unpack, he sat down on his floor and checked out his room for the first time. He had a circular ceiling light that was turned off since he didn’t have curtains and the day was bright. White walls and ceiling created a nice minimalist aesthetic he knew he’d destroy as soon as he got comfortable here. Bored with his plain room, he pulled his phone and dialed his best friend.

“Stevie? Is that you? I thought I’d been forgotten by now,” Bucky Barnes shrieked dramatically over the line. Steve chuckled.

“You snuck my mattress in here? How’d you even get in?”

“Your weird roommate opened the door. He didn’t even ask who I was, he just said not to steal anything.”

“Did you catch his name?”

“Yeah, it was fuckin’ Tony Stark.”

“‘Fuckin Tony Stark’ you say,” Steve mused.

“He built your phone that you’re sassing me through,” Bucky replied.

“He does seem like he’s making bank.”

“Because he is.”

A banging on his door interrupted his conversation.

“Talk to you later, Buck, miss you,” he muttered through the phone and hung up, “come in!”

The brunette from before, now known as Fuckin’ Tony Stark tripped over himself inside the room. His friend - Rhodey? - was stood behind him with crossed arms.

“Tony wanted to say hi,” Rhodey explains.

“Incorrect,” Tony grumbled. Rhodey hit the back of his friend’s head and Tony stuck his arm out stiffly.

“I’m Tony,” he drawled, “and I’m your dorm mate.”

Rhodey waved at Steve, who reflected the action, and walked down the hall out of sight. Steve reached his hand out from the ground and shook Tony’s, who sighed with an eye roll.

“Are we done?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a little busy transforming the tech industry, okay? The only reason I’m here is because Rhodey forced me to. Don’t come to my room unless like, Yellowstone erupts, ‘k?”

Steve simply raised his brow, dropped the handshake and stomped toward Tony, who backed up step by step. The smug smirk never left his face.

“At least take me on a date,” he quipped.

Steve smiled darkly.

“Get out,” and pushed the smaller man out.

This would not be fun.

\---

They didn’t talk after that, they ignored each other if they were ever in the same communal room together, and Steve was incredibly lonely. But he’d die before he surrendered to an elitist asshole like Stark. The other housemate kept odd hours anyway, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because they never really bumped into each other, a curse because electric whirring and metallic banging kept Steve from sleeping most nights. Usually, Steve mutinously muttered profanities to himself and put in headphones. But this was the fourth night in a row where he was kept awake, and he had an early morning tomorrow, so he stormed across the flat and knocked aggressively. The loud noises ceased.

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Yes,” Steve growled.

“That’s really inconvenient. Can you come back later?”

“Nope,” and barged in.

Tony had these ridiculous goggles on, like the ones from The Collector in Toy Story 2 when Woody was getting repaired. He was wielding a… something in his right hand and a piece of bent metal in his left. His legs were crossed, dwarfed by flannel cotton pants that must’ve been his pajamas. His grey hoodie had black streaks on it and was also too big for his size. Tony dropped the Something Tool and took off his goggles then glared at his intruder.

“One rule, Eagle Scout Troop Leader,” he began.

“It’s Steve.”

“-what?”

“My name is Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“I didn’t ask,” Tony gestured flippantly.

“I don’t care. My name is Steve and you’re gonna call me Steve.”

“Okay… why are you here, _Steve,”_ he spat out.

“It’s the middle of the night and I have an Early Morning tomorrow. Cut the loud as shit bull you’re doing in here, or leave,” Steve ordered. Tony smiled mischievously before picking up a different Something Tool that screeched as a wheel spun on its axis. Steve covered his ears and briefly pondered how Tony seemed unbothered by the noise before unplugging the tool.

“Hey!”

Steve held the plug up high as Tony scrambled for it, but a head smaller than Steve, he gave up.

“Fine! I’ll stop for the night. Now gimme my power Wraw!”

“Your power what?”

“Wraw! Wrench-Saw!”

Tony was now jumping on his feet in an attempt to reach the newly deemed Wraw. This was too good to pass up.

“Why do you have a power Wrench-Saw? Aren’t those two things like, opposites?”

“They do whatever I want!”

Tony was full on whining, and Steve cackled at the sight of this elaborate, fancy, top notch Fuckin Tony Stark complaining and jumping like a toddler on a trampoline. Steve lost his breath after he imagined Tony on one of those leashes for kids being dragged around at a zoo, and Tony seized the moment.

“Ah ha! I’ve reclaimed my Wraw! Suck a dick, Rogers!”

Steve’s euphoria was still evident on his face while Stark mumbled threats on his way back to the floor.

“Seriously, Stark, I’ve got the first test of the year at nine-thirty. Please keep it down,” he murmured from the door. Tony glared in response, but Steve slept like a rock for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Steve was fully rested and happy to be alive. His headphones were on full volume, which was terrible for his hearing, but he was listening to Queen, so _nothing really matters_ . He was humming along to _Under Pressure_ when a body ran into his. He took out his left bud and saw Fuckin Tony Stark blinking up at him with eyes that were brown enough to rival Bambi’s.

“You’re not coffee,” he muttered in a low voice. He sounded like he guzzled syrup for an hour.

“You are not wrong about that,” Steve agreed.

“Where’s coffee?”

“You have not made coffee yet.”

Stark’s head fell back with a groan of remorse.

“This world is so fucking cruel.”

Steve chuckled and switched the Keurig on, then returned to his scrambled eggs. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tony with his head bowed forward on the coffee machine as it brewed his drink. 

They each sat down in silence, and Freddy Mercury sang in his ears _keep yourself alive._ He didn’t realize he was tapping his fork to the rhythm until a hand stopped his from bouncing. The hand led to an arm, which led to a torso, which led to Tony with his eyes closed facing him.

“It’s too early, St’ve,” he mumbled.

Steve aptly apologized, inhaled his breakfast and he was out the door with his books before the song even ended.

\---

His first class ended quickly enough, and his second class was Art History. He sat next to a tall blonde haired kid who paid better attention than even Steve. His blonde hair was braided out of the way, but baby hairs were persistent in swirling around whenever he shifted in his seat. His icy blue eyes whizzed from one side of the black board to another and then again as the professor scribbled away. His broad shoulders gave Steve a run for his money, as did his arms. He was a perpetual-question-machine and his low voice boomed like thunder. Steve liked his queries; they were relevant and insightful. Class wouldn’t make near as much sense without him asking the same things Steve was wondering.

After the block ended, Steve stood in front of Question Asker and waited for him to pack up. Query Dude raised a perfectly shaped brow.

“Hello,” he addressed.

“Hi… I’m uh, I’m Steve.” he held his hand out. Blonde Beauty accepted it and his grip was strong. He really was a machine.

“Thor Odinson.”

“Bless you.”

He grinned at that.

“Yeah, it’s unusual, but true nonetheless.”

“Where does a name like that even come from?”

“Nowhere near where ‘Steve’ came from,” Thor returned.

“You got me there.”

Thor smiled again.

“What’s your next class,” he quizzed.

“Uh, Ancient Geography.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Thor snickered and heaved his bag onto his massive shoulder.

“Want a friend to walk with? I’m kinda new here and hella nerdy, as you’ve probably guessed.”

“I actually really appreciate you asking all those things. I’m too shy to do it, but you’ve actually kept my head afloat these past few days.”

Thor cocked his head to one side.

“Ah, a fellow art geek.”

“That’s my major. Uh, yeah, you should totally walk with me. I uh… it’s a long walk, you sure?”

Thor nodded, “yeah, I don’t have any classes for another hour, which is super annoying.”

“Then let’s travel.”

“Let’s.”

They bounced down four flights of stairs and bound out the building to cross a street. Cars beeped impatiently at them, as per usual in New York. 

“It’s such a comforting sound,” Steve commented and Thor snorted.

“New York is so loud,” Thor contemplated.

“It’s the third best thing that we’re good at. Second is never sleeping and first is bitching.”

“I’m getting that.”

They trekked through a dog park, where they got harassed by local puppies. There were worse ways to get distracted, Steve supposed. After petting three dogs each, they continued forth. 

“My family moved here in what you guys call junior year of highschool,” Thor explained, “I was learning English and American customs while simultaneously learning the regular curriculum.” 

“But where’re you from,” Steve insisted.

Thor muttered incoherently.

“What?”

“NORWAY, OKAY?”

“Who the fuck comes from Norway?”

“I don’t fucking know!”

Birds chirped about and pestered the pair for food that they didn’t have as they passed other familiar students.

“They definitely work for the government here,” Thor declared.

“Probably.”

A pond glistened with the afternoon sun’s reflection and Steve halted in front of a building that was named after some dead white confederate officer.

“This is my stop.”

“It was a nice journey.”

“I guess,” Steve drawled. Thor glared at him.

“Can I get your number, Mr Odinson? I kinda don’t have friends.”

Thor beamed.

“Neither do I, Mr Rogers.”

They swapped numbers and said goodbye. As Steve sat in his seat on the sixteenth - fucking what - floor, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_Unknown number: it’s ur boy. Dnt let the birds c_

_Steve: ure never allowed to say any of that ever again_

Steve created a contact for his new friend, finishing just as the professor clapped her hands to begin class.

After his last class, Steve headed to the daycare center just outside campus and clocked in. He was five minutes early, which for him was right on time. No one looked his way as he shuffled to the activity room and started prepping the shitty washable paint on fifteen little kiddy desks in neat rows. The walls were bright yellow with a smiling sun looking down on a garden of smiling daisies. He set paper plates out individually as the first child showed up. Her name was Chelsea and she was a good egg. Her short blonde hair bobbed around her rounded jawline as green eyes flickered all over the room.

“Hi, Mr Steve,” she accosted, sidling up next to him. He silently passed her an apron and fourteen others to pass out.

“Hello, Chelsea.”

“Today at school, we got teached the vowel song, it went ba ba duhh doo bop bee,” she continued singing a song that vaguely sounded like the Batman theme song as Steve smiled to himself. She roughly settled each tiny apron on every desk, skipping between tables. 

She completed her task as soon as the rest of the class staggered in, all in varying happiness to see Steve. Moses was his personal favorite, as he was quiet at appropriate times and didn’t make huge messes. His little curls on his head stayed stagnant as he grinned in childlike wonder at the art supplies. He raised his hand after everyone settled.

“Yes, Moses?”

“What’re we doin’ tuhday?”

“We,” Steve said through clenched teeth and a faux smile, “are finger painting.”

The class erupted in cheers and Steve knew it would be a very long hour and a half.

He walked in through the unlocked door and abruptly regretted ever being born. People were shouting, most were half naked, and _everyone_ was drunk out of their minds. A high pitched groan came from Steve again as he thunked his head on the back of the door. A woman with long brown hair swiveled over to him, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination.

She offered him a ride, to which he blushed while declining. She shrugged, but pulled him into a kiss, all dirty and nothing simple. He was about to take up her previous suggestion when someone cleared their throat.

Stark was standing in the hallway in front of them with no shirt on and confusion melding his face. His stomach was carved into six lean muscles with contouring lines from his hips that ran below his waistline. His arms were simply gorgeous and his tan put Steve’s to shame. 

The girl - Sunset, she’d said - smoothed her hands over his chest and his brain came to a stop. She continued her petting, and Steve was too busy to notice Tony grinning devilishly.

“Sun, babe, Steve has a boyfriend.”

Sunset stilled and stepped back with a bite to his bottom lip.

“See you around, Steve.” 

On instinct he tried to follow her, but she had already disappeared into the crowds. He then eyed Tony, menacingly.

“Did you just cockblock me?”

Stark failed to bite back his shit eating smirk. 

“Yeah.” and he cackled before joining the party, saddling up to Sunset and winking at Steve over his shoulder.

Weariness drowned out his petty anger, and he let it dominate him while he stumbled to room. Before he walked in, he heard hushed whispers and groaned madly for the third time in twenty minutes. _Fuck it,_ he concluded before marching into Tony’s empty room and fell asleep within minutes. 

\---

Steve woke up Saturday morning with a person laying next to him. The sun was reaching through the black out curtains desperately, but to no avail. Steve grumbled and tried to take cover under the comforter, but he was pushed away. He opened his eyes to see a cotton ball of brown hair tucked under the blankets. The ball of puff groaned sleepily which was hilarious and kinda adorable at once. Steve made to leave, but big eyes blinked open and froze him in place.

“Did we fuck,” Tony mumbled as he dug into his eyes.

“Did you want to?”

“Fuck off.”

Stark was back asleep once more, and Steve shrugged before following suit and joining him.

It had been too soon when Tony yelled in surprise. Steve shook out of bed onto the floor to see Stark with a hand over his heart and blown open eyes.

“What they fuck? Why’re you here?”

“Because there were people fucking on my bed.”

“So you came into my room?”

“Yeah, you cockblocked me so I cockblocked you.”

“Get the fuck out of my room.”

Steve obeyed, and Tony slammed back down onto his bed with a put out grumble. He gently closed the door and pulled his phone out.

_Steve: come over_

_Bucky: i feel like this is a booty call_

_Steve: ew_

_Bucky: i’ll b over in 20_

His phone said it was only ten in the morning, and he was impressed that Bucky was even awake yet. He usually hibernated the entire weekend. Steve high fived himself for having a single friend and poured a bowl of cereal. He settled on the living room couch that Tony had brought with him; it was so soft. It was like sitting on happiness. He flicked through channels before ending up on South Park, which washed over him as he sat contentedly. Time passed like it was supposed to and the doorbell rang. 

“It’s unlocked,” Steve called.

“Hey fuckface,” Bucky barged in.

He plopped on top of Steve, who grunted in acknowledgment. They sat watching the shittily animated show quietly while he munched on his breakfast.

“I can’t believe I’m going to college for a degree in this shit and these assheads have two Emmys,” Steve complained.

Bucky pat the leg he was sitting on in a sign of comfort.

“Once you graduate Stevie, you can draw a horrifically offensive show that has twenty-two too many seasons.”

“Gee, I can’t wait.”

“And if that fails, you can always just live on the streets like every other artist.”

“I’m thankful for how supportive you are of my dream.”

“It’s my job. You make any friends yet?”

“Mhm.”

“...do they have names?”

“Yep.”

Bucky smacked Steve’s leg, and he yelped in pain.

“What’re they’re fucking names, shithead!”

“Fucking Sam and Thor, okay?”

Bucky squinted at the blonde and hit him again. Who yelled again.

“It’s the truth,” Steve howled.

“Who names their kid ‘Thor’?”

“Who names their kid Adolf? I don’t fucking know!”

“Don’t compare your friends to Hitler!”

“Stop spanking me!”

The friends burst into laughter at that, spilling milk on the hard floor. Chuckles that lingered for far too long stopped haltingly when a spectre of fur blankets waddled into the room.

“Can you fuckers be any louder?”

“Tony?”

“No, it’s fucking Alan Turing.”

“Who?” Bucky questioned to which Tony sighed. Steve giggled at Stark swaddled in covers, soon joined by his best friend.

“Bruh, he’s like fuckin’ Linus from Charlie Brown,” Bucky announced, and Steve cackled like a hyena. The two howled together on the three cushioned Happiness Couch at Tony, who was then rolling his eyes and making his way to the kitchen.

“ _‘I got a rock’,”_ Steve mimicked in a nasally voice. Bucky shrieked, slapping the couch and propelling him off and on the furniture. 

“You guys give Bud Abbott and Lou Costello a roll for their money,” Tony deadpanned from over a marble counter. Neither heard over their own roaring, each adding little phrases and laughing harder with every new addition. 

“Buck, Buck, Buck, I’m-I’m gonna pass out!”

“Do it, pussy,” the other challenged. Steve dramatically dropped his head against the arm and went limp. His tongue hung out and his eyes glossed over, looking nowhere near dead, but very reminiscent of someone drunkenly passed out. Bucky snapped a picture and ran away before Steve could murder him in cold blood. His friend ran out the door, and Steve was going to chase him, but Tony “accidentally” spilled black coffee on him.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

“Oops,” Tony drew out. Steve didn’t reply, just peeled out of his shirt and dabbed at his chest. He got most of it and started to withdraw, only to see Stark with wide open eyes looking at him.

“What? Did it burn? Fucking shit, I can’t afford a hospital bill right now.”

“No!”

Steve glanced back to Tony, who sputtered like a broken engine.

“No, it-it didn’t burn. I just- I thought I saw a bug. That’s all. Sorry.”

“It’s… it’s okay, we all… we all make mistakes I guess.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

They were closer than they’d ever been before, with Steve’s head bowed to look at Tony’s eyes. The brunette’s head was angled to look up at him, which was weird to think about. Stark’s personality usually took up a whole room, but he himself is a very small person. Steve held his stained shirt in his hands in between their two bodies. The only sound was them exchanging breaths. Tony’s mug was empty and forgotten as the pair remained rooted to the floor in front of one another. 

“Can we go to iHop or something,” Stark eventually whispered, “I need coffee and food.”

Steve huffed a laugh.

“Yeah.”

“Hey Stevie- woah.” Bucky was stopped in the open door frame with his phone held loosely in his hand.

“Hey, I’ll give you twenty dollars to go away,” Tony barked out. Steve bit back a smile. But based on Stark’s questioning glance, he wasn’t doing too well at hiding it.

“What the fuck?”

Steve leaned back, out of Tony’s space.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Buck. Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’m keeping the picture.”

“Have fun with it.”

“Ooooookay.”

And they were alone once more. Steve shifted back to Tony, who maintained eye contact with where Barnes had been.

“Lemme get dressed.”

“Ditto.” 

\---

They decided to walk since it was only a mile away from campus.

“We could’ve just driven,” Tony complained.

“And waste carbon emissions to pollute our already fragile ecosystem when we could easily walk there, which is better for our health, but also our environment?”

“Global warming is a government conspiracy.”

“Literally how.”

“I’m kidding, damn.”

Steve knocked their shoulders together.

“I thought I’d have to bring up the charts,” he confessed. Tony snickered.

“Do you just have like, a bookmark for rising global temperatures?”

“If I did, it would be very useful to use as evidence against idiots.”

“You do, don’t you? Oh my God,” Stark mused.

“It’s helpful!”

“It’s pointless. If they wanna suffocate when there’s no oxygen left, or melt when the ozone dies, then they’re gonna do it. At our age, we already have our minds made up, and we’ve all heard the same arguments for each side. Trying to convince everyone that the world is ending within the next decade is time wasted. Time that we could be using to find a solution, or better ways of prolonging the inevitable.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief. 

“Tony Stark: the most problematic person to exist since ever, except in politics.”

The other lifted his shoulders to his ears.

“That’s the most important thing to be vocal about,” Steve announced, “it’s the one thing that can change the world.”

Tony stopped walking, held his arms out to the air, and shouted, “Global warming is here and real! This shit is whack!”

Nothing happened.

“Nothing happened,” Tony concluded, “the world doesn’t care what I have to say.”

He continued pacing forward with Steve in tow.

“You’ve already had this conversation before, haven’t you?”

“I’ve had every conversation before. Communication is just repetition of words in different sequences. There is no idea that hasn’t already existed; just ideas that haven’t been conveyed correctly.”

Steve eyed the other suspiciously. He got caught and Tony smiled.

“What? I’m right.”

“Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you’re correct.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I dunno,” Steve answered, “it sounded cool and smart.”

Tony chuckled in a low tone. Steve had already decided he liked the sound. He wanted to hear it more often.

“Cool and Smart is a trademarked ideal that takes many years to perfect.”

They turned right and came to a crosswalk. Tony didn’t stop for the light, he simply weaved through cars and pedestrians with natural ease. Steve sighed and repeated the steps, admittedly sloppier and less badass.

“They have lights for a reason,” he chastised.

“They also have laws against murder, and no one cares about those.” was what he got in lieu of an actual response.

“Are you a mass murderer?”

“No, but that’d be fun.”

iHop was there, in all its pancakeness, bright and lovely. It was the Holy Grail for college students, normally flooded with them. That day was the exception.

“A month into the semester and everyone is already dead asleep.”

“I would be if you and your boy would’ve just shut the hell up,” Tony mumbled.

“Bucky and I aren’t dating,” he laughed out.

“For sure?”

“Yeah, we’ve been brothers since elementary school. He saved me from a fight I couldn’t win, then let me kick his ass for good measure. Ma says we’re attached at the hip, and maybe we are, but no, we’re not dating.”

“‘Ma’?”

Steve nodded.

“Mamma Sarah Rogers: OG badass.”

Tony grinned to himself. Steve saw that the smile was actually kind of sad, and he wondered why that was.

A waitress in a neat black apron approached them inside the building. 

“Two?”

They both nodded and she deftly lead them to a booth in the back corner. Her long red hair swayed with each step. The pair sat across from one another as she laid out the menus.

“Can I take your orders for drinks?”

Steve began to speak, but was intercepted by Tony.

“Have we met before, sweet thing?”

“Tony!”

“Unfortunately, yes, asshat,” the ginger responded. Tony beamed at the woman.

“You love me, Pep.”

“It’s quite frankly the exact opposite of that. The school pays me triple my salary here to keep an eye on you. I’m legally required to hang out with you; there was a contract and everything.”

“Did you have a notary? Contracts are dangerous, Pepper.”

“They made me sign in blood. You draw in strange crowds, Tony.”

Steve watched the two bicker back and forth, not knowing who the lady was. Freckles rained on her nose and cheekbones, contrasting to her emerald green eyes. She was abnormally tall, even in black flats. Her smile had dimples and her eyes creased in the corners when she grinned, which she was doing a lot of in spite of her antagonizing words. Tony was also beaming. His teeth sat in a straight line and were pristinely clean, even though the man drank coffee like water. His chin rested in his right hand that was propped up on the table as he looked to his companion.

“What would you like to drink,” she suddenly asked Steve. He belatedly saw Tony sputtering behind her and he blinked back up to her.

“Uh… hot cocoa, please.”

She nodded and strutted away.

“Pep! You didn’t take my order!”

She turned the corner, ignoring Tony’s concern. He stuck his tongue out and drew his brows together angrily.

“You guys know each other?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Sadly, yeah. She’s amazing though. She graduated four months ago with a master’s in entrepreneuring. She wants ta’ move out to Cali and start her own company, but for now she’s part time iHop server and full time MeSitter.”

“Why’s she staying here if she’s graduated?”

“Me. Pep wasn’t lying when she said I keep weird company. She watches from a distance, and when I’m lucky, she’ll stop by and chill out.”

“But why?”

Tony glared at Steve, who apologized. Tony waved him off with a grin and eyes looking away.

“Nah, she uh, she just does. She’s the Bucky to my Steve, presumably.”

Steve hummed in agreement. He speculated that everyone needed someone, even Fuckin’ Tony Stark. 

Pepper came back around with Steve’s order and a half gallon of black coffee for Tony. He drank from the container, but no one else was here, so it didn’t matter. They then ordered their food, and chatted amongst one another until their meals arrived. 

Maybe Tony wasn’t so bad.

“Do we have to walk back,” Tony whined as he signed the check. He’d gotten to it first, but Tony snatched it out of his hands and giggled. 

“Yes, Tony. We walked here, and now we walk back.”

“But I’m tired.”

“I do not remember asking.”

Tony moaned exasperatedly and whimpered. The short commute back home was filled with mostly that, but Steve found that he didn’t mind. The cacophonous musical of New York: now complete with honking horns and Tony Stark lamenting over every little thing. Ten bucks a pop.

They walked side by side the entire trip, even though Tony tended to slow down as he got into a topic. They were talking about how the world was going to end when he first noted it happening.

“The world was once flooded with water, and so-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Tony interrupted, “the world didn’t flood.”

Steve stepped back to stand in front of the other, who had stopped, with crossed arms.

“Yes it did.”

“No it didn’t.”

“Tony, Noah’s Ark!”

The brunette licked his lips before sighing. When he didn’t continue, Steve grinned.

“Man had sinned, so He thought He should wash us out and start over.”

“The Bible isn’t factual evidence.”

“Neither is your science theory.”

“I am not wasting my time on this.”

“It’s because I’m right.”

“I’m walking away.”

True to his word, Tony pushed away with a frustrated smile. His pacing was faster than before.

“That’s your argument? God?”

“Yep.”

Tony sputtered and put his hands to his temples.

“I’m gonna cry, this is it.”

Steve barked a laugh.

\---

They were on the sectional couch in their living room sitting in companionable quiet as they watched Hulu from the brunette’s phone. The sun was setting outside, and Steve was exhausted, but Tony was so raptured by _Steven Universe_ that Steve couldn’t bear to move. The screen reflected in his deep brown eyes that flickered whenever a frame changed. An endless supply of long eyelashes blinked up and down occasionally, completely mesmerizing Steve Rogers. Tony was tucked between his legs (“I’m _cold,_ Steven!”) radiating warmth through the several blankets. New York usually didn’t get cold until December, but Tony had insisted they bring every cover and sheet and rag from the dorm to the couch. They’d have to clean it all up, which would be a pain, but Steve didn’t seem to care. His chin rested on the brunette’s shoulder and his arms wrapped around himself, all propped up by a pillow by the arm of the couch.

They’d been friends for six weeks at that point, and to everyone’s surprise, they’ve been inseparable. The two walked to their classes together, met up for lunch, and now they watch TV together, too. Tony had jumped on top of Steve at seven in the morning that weekend with “super urgent news”.

_(“Steve, Steve, Steve!”_

_Tony flew in the air and back down as Steve sat up and scratched at his eyes._

_“What the hell, Tony?”_

_He glanced to the clock; too early._

_“Wegottawatchthisshowrightnowit’sdireIwilldieifwedonotwatchitrightfuckingnow.”_

_Tony squirmed under his cover and pressed his ice cold feet to Steve’s calves, causing the blonde to scream in agony and roll out of bed. Tony came toppling down after him, landing on his chest. Steve groaned in pain when Tony propped his chin on his sternum._

_“That’s the attitude, Stevie! Vamonos!”_

_Tony attempted to move, but each pair of their legs were entangled in the bedding, and he fell back down with an “oof”.)_

It had taken them twenty-three minutes to free themselves. Tony promptly grabbed all the cloth he could hold and trotted out the room, leaving a bewildered Steve behind. 

Tony screamed, bringing Steve back to the present, and a green triangle mumbled something threatening, followed by an orange blob.

“THEY’RE GONNA FUCKIN’ DIE!”  
Steve pet his friend’s side comfortingly, despite him having no idea what was happening. They’d been watching the show for five hours at this point, and Steve had fallen asleep more than once. Tony paused the show and chucked his phone at the wall, shooting off the furniture into the hallway.

“I WON’T WATCH THEM DIE!” echoed throughout the area.

Steve whined at the cold where Tony had previously been and snuggled deeper into the cushions. Pounding footsteps stomped sporadically as the other roommate ran around chaotically. When the rattling stopped, Steve squinted through one eye suspiciously, only to have a bundle of Tony snuggle between him and the back of the couch. They laid face to face, millimeters apart, sharing breaths in silence. Steve raised his handful of blankets in an offer to Tony, who accepted and wriggled closer. Their chests bumped against one another while they stared at the other forever. The same chocolate eyes captured Steve in a confusing trap, and he wondered how he got there. When did eye contact with Tony transform to eye contact with Medusa? Every time, they froze him in his place when he looked for too long, and every time, he went willingly. 

“Did they die,” Steve whispered. Tony smiled; a tiny, shy thing, only for them.

“I don’t know, I threw my phone at the wall.”

“Are you happy with your decision?”

Tony peered over Steve to see his phone, then settled back down and shook his head no. He giggled softly, and Steve was only human, then they were laughing together in their own cocoon. Somehow, within that heap of blankets, the world didn’t matter. 

Except for when someone knocks on the door.

Steve’s breath died in his throat as Tony sat up.

“Who is it?”

Without answering, a small, blood red haired woman strut into their dorm.

“Always a pleasure, Natasha,” Tony drawled. She flipped him off without looking up from her phone, then plopped on the couch next to Steve’s feet. Sharp green eyes flicked to him for a nanosecond, then resumed her scrolling.

“You’re daddy’s going on a trip?”

Tony nodded stiffly at her query. He never talked about his family, save for a flower garden that raised him. There was also a man named Jarvis, but the stories were little to none to Steve, regardless of how many tales Steve has told of Brooklyn.

“He gonna sell more bombs to get rid of the big baddies that threaten the land of the brave?”

“Shut up, Nat,” Tony muttered. His dismissive tone made the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck rise. However, his friend persisted.

“I’m sure that the only way to find peace is through war,” she snorted.

Tony grumbled and Steve snuck a glance; this wouldn’t end well.

“Hi, I’m Steve.” He held his right hand out to her. She smirked, and he felt like he was missing a punchline. Her emerald eyes shook his core as she glared mischievously at him through her lashes.

“Natasha, Nat, Tasha, Natalie, Natalia, and once Natty.” she took his hand. Her grip was strong and deadly. Red curls flipped out of her face and onto her brown leather jacket that was unzipped to unveil a Led Zeppelin tee. Her scuffed jeans had holes in the knees and were tucked into white sneakers. 

“You have a very basic bitch aesthetic,” Steve commented. Her eyes narrowed, and he briefly thought of an angry, murderous cat. A row of white teeth beamed out of cherry red lips and dimples carved her face. She lightly tapped his nose with her index finger.

“I like you,” she purred.

“I wish you would respect Tony’s desire to not talk about his father,” he stated. 

She grinned even more predatorily as she crossed her on top of his and rested against the other arm chair.

“Wishes come from genies, not me.”

Steve sat upright and towered over her.

“Well, only one of those exists, so we’ll have to make dew,” he shrugged. She squinted at him for a moment, then decided something as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Did he pass,” Tony asked from his position hovering over the bookcase. Natasha’s smirk became more of a grin. She held out her fist in the air, and Tony came over to bump it.

“He’s pretty dope, Stark.”

“He’s very possessive,” Tony remarked.

Steve switched between the two in confusion as they started to chat friendly. He was ready for a fight… what the fuck was this?

“What the fuck is this?”

Tony and Natasha paused their administrations to look at him. Tony beamed and perched himself on Steve’s legs.

“You passed.”

  
“Passed what?”

“The Test.”

“What?”

“The Test,” Natasha reiterated.

“Repeating the same thing isn’t an explanation!”

Tony patted his thigh amicably.

“Natty and Pepper are friends. They like to team up and make sure my friends are okay.”

Steve sighed and held his hands in surrender,

“I’m going to bed, and since you stole all my blankets, I’m sleeping with yours.”

Tony whimpered in protest, and he dutifully ignored.

“Fuck your tests!”

\---

Steve hadn’t seen Tony in three days. 72 hours of radio silence. 72 excruciatingly Tony-less hours. So, maybe Steve was kind of addicted to talking with his dorm mate. Maybe he looked forward to their chats too much. Maybe he convinces Tony to watch TV shows with him every night just so he can feel the other pressed against him. The late nights and early mornings and everything in between with Tony were his favorite parts of the day, so what? And yeah, watching Tony smile is like watching the universe being made, whoop-dee-doo. 

He might have a problem.

Nonetheless, he missed his maybe-more-than-strictly-platonic-friend. So when Steve found his friend in an alleyway in a dangerous neighborhood with hickies lined up and down his neck to his shoulder, he wasn’t all that joyous.

“Tony?”

A black and brown clothed man was slumped on the ground with a vodka bottle shoved in his right hand. His dirty hair was matted to his head and when he turned his head, his face was sullen and dark. However, he was indeed Tony Stark.

“Oh my god,” Steve whispered. He rushed to his friend and crouched next to him. He delicately took Tony’s chin in his fingers and turned his head to face him. Those distinct Bambi eyes were dilated and unfocused. They wandered around Steve’s hairline as he took his pulse. Steve cupped Tony’s face gently.

“Hey, hey, uh… you recognize me? You know my name?”

Tony blinked and smacked his tongue.

“St… St…”

Steve smiled weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me, Steve. I’m here, okay? Do you know what you took?”

Tony grinned lazily and shut his eyes, leaning on Steve.

“Everythin’...” he murmured in Steve’s ear. He paled. 

“Everything? What-what does that mean? Tony?”

But Tony’s breaths had evened out and he was entirely slumped against Steve. He sighed and heaved his friend in his arms precariously. He whipped his phone out.

“Bucky? I need you here, like, yesterday, okay?”

\---

Tony awoke with a very annoying and bright light in his eyes. _Oh, it’s the sun_ , he realized. He secondly noted that his mouth tasted like ass and that he has a killer headache. He got up on his elbows and looked around. His television was still on the wall, and there weren’t any strangers in his bed, so all in all it was a great night. 

It only lasted that long though.

Steve shot up like a bullet from the floor and dazedly took his surroundings in. When he landed on Tony, however, a myriad of emotions battered his face. He ended on anger.

“Heyyy Stevie,” Tony grimaced. Steve didn’t reply, unless his ticking jaw counted.

“So, I’m super sorry if I hit on you or like, somehow your grandmother-”

“Is this a joke to you?”

Toy blinked at the interruption. 

“I find you half dead in God knows where, barely able to speak. Then you sleep it all off in a hospital for a day until they discharge you, and now you’re gonna joke about it?”

“Can we not do this right now?”

“Fuck you, Stark.”

 _Ouch_ , _Stark again? Yikes._

A tear slipped down Steve’s cheekbone as he sucked a breath in.

“I fucking love you, you stupid ass idiot. You can’t-you can’t just _do_ this. I thought you were gonna die. I thought you were gonna die without knowing how you feel, taste, love. I thought-” he cut himself off with his hand and clenched his eyes tight. He rocked back and forth on Tony’s white shag rug. He slipped off his bed and cradled Steve’s face.

“It was a bad night, and I’m sorry you were scared. I just… I just heard that…” he was crying too, “they had a wreck.”

Steve’s eyes snapped to his, shockingly blue, like electricity. Like blue fire. Like ice. Like home.

“No one made it,” he whisped out. 

Steve tugged him into a hug, and they both embraced one another while sobbing for an eternity. Time passed irregularly, but they eventually pulled away.

“I love you too, Steve.”

“You fuckin’ better.”

They each smiled before Tony leaned in and took what he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> this took too long im so tired - yes the title is jonas brothers leave me alone  
> Tumblr: shetalkstooloud


End file.
